


Place in the Galaxy

by sorrowfulcheese



Series: Calibration Concatenation [5]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrowfulcheese/pseuds/sorrowfulcheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petty things get into the mind and nag and nag until they seem as big as the universe itself--and will go away only with a little perspective. And maybe a punch in the gut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Place in the Galaxy

    He woke, and Shepard was awake, her legs over the side of the bed, a datapad in one hand, its faint light outlining her features. She wasn't scrolling through the text on the screen; she seemed to be looking through the pad itself, lost in thought. Garrus stretched and relaxed, and Shepard put the datapad aside, swung her legs back into the bed. She paused as she realised he was watching her.  
  
    "Did I wake you?" she wondered. "I'm sorry."  
  
    "You didn't wake me," he said. "What was on the pad?"  
  
    "Nothing important," she lied. She squirmed down beneath the blanket, turned to face away from him and inched backward, inviting. Garrus slid forward, curled around her, pressed his face to her shoulder.  
  
    As he drowsed he was aware that Shepard was not asleep; when he woke in the morning, early, she was already gone.  
  
    Garrus sighed and got up to start his day.  
  
    He kept out of sight in the main battery, where he was able to absorb himself in calculations without interruption. After the midday meal, Shepard tapped him for an away mission. He was as efficient as possible, did not stray from the mission parameters, and when they returned to the Normandy he returned to his work on the Thanix. Shepard dropped by the main battery to check on him and when he asked her if something was wrong, she shook her head and said it was nothing.  
  
    Alarms rang in his head.  
  
     _When a woman says nothing's wrong, everything's wrong. When she says she's fine, she's not. And when she says_ we need to talk _, you're in big trouble._  
  
    Joker's 'advice', delivered in intermittent falsetto, seemed rather counterintuitive. And it had, Garrus had to admit, been given—entirely unsolicited—after several drinks.  
  
    On a whim Garrus made his way to the medlab, where Mordin continued to work on his genophage cure and to tend to the krogan shaman. Mordin looked up at him; a thoughtful expression crossed his face, then vanished. "Garrus," he said. "Need something?"  
  
    "Just wondering," Garrus said, "if Shepard's been—all right. Has she come in here to consult with Dr Chakwas?"  
  
    Mordin inhaled and sighed rapidly. "Has not," he said. "But."  
  
    "But?"  
  
    "Elevated blood pressure," Mordin said with a quirk of his head. "Not eating well. Not sleeping well. Paces the corridors at night. Anxiety. Makes sense, given current situation."  
  
    "And you're up to see this?"  
  
    Mordin shrugged. "No time to sleep. Short naps, while cultures grow. More than enough." He raised his omni-tool, his free hand hovering over it. "Anything else?"  
  
    "No," Garrus said. "Thanks."  
  
    He left the medlab and ran into Shepard just about to enter. She caught his arm and searched his face with obvious concern. "Are you all right?" she asked.  
  
    Garrus nearly laughed. "I'm fine," he said. "Are _you_?"  
  
    "I'm fine," she told him. "What were you doing in the medlab?"  
  
    "Why are _you_ coming here?" he countered.  
  
    "Checking up on—Eve," she said. "She's quite fascinating to talk to."  
  
    "And I had a question for Mordin," Garrus told her. He turned his arm to be able to cup her elbow with his palm. "Do you have time for a little spar?"  
  
    "Sure," she said, with some surprise. "Give me twenty, to be done here and get dressed?"  
  
    "Meet you there in half an hour," Garrus said. "Wear your helmet."  
  
    "Always safety first," Shepard said, and her laughter trailed behind her as she continued past him into the medlab.  
  
    So it wasn't something he'd done or said, he mused, else she wouldn't be so light about it, with him. Something was bothering her, but it wasn't _him_. He was really starting to get the hang of this relationship thing. He couldn't see why human men complained so much about their women. Joker's advice was plainly off—or maybe only relevant to specific situations.  
  
    Or, just as likely, only relevant to Joker.  
  
    He dressed for practise, strapped on his helmet and pulled on his gloves, and headed to the Normandy's tiny gym. It was empty in the evenings, and he and Shepard took advantage of it as often as possible. There was, he had found, no better way to distract Shepard from her thoughts.  
  
     _Almost_ no better way, he amended.  
  
    He had just begun to warm up when Shepard joined him, her helmet firmly in place, mouthguard limiting her ability to talk. He hadn't initially understood why humans were so fiercely protective of their teeth. Then he'd learned that human teeth didn't grow back; they had only two sets in a lifetime. He had to admit he had rather taken a liking to Shepard's dull little square teeth; it would be a shame for her to lose them.  
  
    She punched her fists together in a challenge and they both dropped low, circling, the precursor to all their sparring matches: negotiation. "If I win," said Garrus, "you tell me what's been on your mind."  
  
    Shepard stopped, and stared at him. "Weepersh," she said around her mouthguard. and held her hands up in a questioning gesture. "We doh deedoo fpar abod dat, dooee?"  
  
    He managed to keep his expression straight. "If it was Reapers," he said, "you wouldn't be telling me it's nothing."  
  
    Shepard blinked and frowned. "Wha?"  
  
    "What was on the datapad last night?"  
  
    "Muffim."  
  
    "Will you take that thing out of your mouth?"  
  
    Shepard rolled her eyes and struck her fists together again. "We dooim dish shing?"  
  
    "Mordin says you're up all night, pacing the ship."  
  
    "Uh, Weepersh? C'mom—"  
  
    Garrus sped forward and caught her squarely in the middle with a fist. She gasped and doubled, and Garrus swept his leg around to knock her feet from beneath her. As she lay on her back, eyes glazed, and tried to catch her breath, Garrus knelt over her.  
  
    "Mah faya," she gasped.  
  
    He held her hands over her head and leaned down. "Neither is you keeping stuff from me."  
  
    She shook her head. "Ish muffim," she repeated.  
  
    Garrus pressed his face against her neck. "Mm-hm," he said, softly. "Then why is this nothing keeping you awake at night? And don't say Reapers again. I've seen you sleep through anything less than a direct attack." He touched her skin with his tongue.  
  
    "Mah fay-ya," Shepard grumbled, "tokkim ommee like dat."  
  
    "Life isn't fair, my sweet," he assured her. "And I learned from you that sometimes you have to use alternate tactics to get results."  
  
    She sighed. "Lemme up," she said at last.  
  
    "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"  
  
    "Yesh."  
  
    "Promise?"  
  
    Another sigh. "Yesh."  
  
    He sat up and pulled her with him, settled her on his lap, her legs straddling his hips. He lifted her arms and dropped them over his shoulders. He pulled off one glove and stuck his finger into her mouth to pull out the rubbery guard. Shepard slurped as he did, and made a face.  
  
    "Yuck," she said. "You don't want my slobbery mouthguard on your hands."  
  
    "Shepard, there isn't much of you that hasn't been somewhere on my body at some point. I think I can handle a little drool." He tossed the mouthguard aside and hooked his hands together behind her back.  
  
    She wiped her mouth with the back of one hand, rested her arm on his shoulder again and watched him seriously. "It was about you," she said at last. "On the datapad."  
  
    "What about me?"  
  
    "It was information about you," she said, and dropped her gaze. "That the Shadow Broker had on you."  
  
    "Liara has information on me?"  
  
    "Not Liara. The Shadow Broker before her." Shepard leaned forward, touched her helmet to his.  
  
    Garrus considered a moment. "What information?"  
  
    She sighed again, shook her head slowly. "It said that you will never reach your potential as long as you serve under me. Basically, I'm stopping you from being all you could be."  
  
    Garrus laughed and rocked backward a little, tightened his arms around Shepard's waist. "That's it? I've seen that. Liara let us all see our dossiers."  
  
    Shepard looked up at him. "She did?"  
  
    "Of course she did."  
  
    "So you know."  
  
    "Yeah, I know."  
  
    "You should be serving elsewhere."  
  
    "Shepard, if I wanted to be anywhere else, I would be there."  
  
    "You're just saying that because I'm right here."  
  
    "I read that file last year, when she first got it, Shepard. I have already served elsewhere since."  
  
    "Had turian generals saluting you and all," she said gloomily, looked away from him. "You should develop that. It's not fair for you—"  
  
    "I'm sorry, mother, what?" She shot him a dark look. "Shepard," he continued, soothing. "Shepard, I know I can be a decent leader. But I have zero ambition for it. I like being on the front lines. I like making a difference, and being able to see that I'm making a difference, however small. And I absolutely love the looks on people's faces when I tell them I serve under Commander Shepard." He grinned. "Every night."  
  
    "Garrus!"  
  
    "Well, sometimes you let me be on top. But I don't make a big deal about it."  
  
    "This is serious."  
  
    He sighed and shifted her weight on him, ensured she was secure in his arms. "Shepard," he said at last, "when you and I finish off these Reapers and save the galaxy, we're going to retire. You'll make credits off endorsements and I still have the credits I saved up on Omega. We'll find a quiet little house somewhere with nothing but trees and grass and water around it, and we'll spend our days doing our best to violate nature in an attempt to create a human-turian hybrid baby. That's how I envision my life, not stalking bureaucratic and political hallways filling out paperwork until I'm insane. Or senile."  
  
    "You know that even if conception was possible, carrying the kid to term would likely kill me."  
  
    "It's all about the trying, Shepard," he told her. He ducked down and pressed his mouth to her neck, let his teeth graze her, and she shuddered.  
  
    "Don't talk on me like that," she murmured. "So are we good?"  
  
    "As far as I know, yes," he said, and licked her neck again. "We've been good all along."  
  
    "You didn't really want to spar with me at all."  
  
    "Totally would have," he said as he closed his teeth on her skin, "if you hadn't given in so easily."  
  
    "You punched me in the gut," she reminded him.  
  
    "Love tap," he scoffed. "I barely winded you."  
  
    "Nearly knocked me out."  
  
    "Maybe Anderson was right," he said, and reached between them to close his fingertips on her belly. "You got soft while you were grounded."  
  
    Shepard's head came up, then, her eyes on fire, and with delight Garrus rocked swiftly forward to pin her to the floor again.  
  
    "You are in for it, Vakarian," she said as she struggled against his weight. "Gimme my mouthguard."  
  
    "I don't think I'm in the mood anymore." Garrus grinned.  
  
    "You get in the mood, mister, or—"  
  
    "Or what? You'll lisp me to death? Thing's on the floor. You don't want that in your mouth." He leaned down and touched the front of his helmet to hers again. "I can think of better things to put in there, anyway."  
  
    That made her laugh, and she stopped struggling. Garrus released her hands, sat back on her hips and watched her. Shepard lifted her hands and rested them on his knees. "If you ever decide you need to be somewhere else," she said softly, "you'll tell me, right?"  
  
    "Oh, you'll be the first to know, Shepard." He stood and reached down to take her hand, pulled her to her feet. "If I need to leave, I'm taking you with me."  
  
    "I have a ship to run," she said, as she bent over to pick up her mouthguard. Garrus dropped one hand and let his fingers trail over the curve of her bottom. Shepard straightened and gave him a look of mock reproach. "I can't gallivant all over the galaxy with you just because you want me to."  
  
    "No," he agreed. "But I bet you'd do it because you want to."  
  
    "Mm-hm." She stood with her hands on her hips and eyed him a moment. "Just don't let me find out you're next in line to be Primarch or something, and avoiding it because of me."  
  
    Garrus laughed. "I'm not even on the list, Shepard." He stepped closer to her, held her shoulders, and she rested her hands on his chest. "Want something to eat?"  
  
    "I could eat," she agreed.  
  
    "Then head up to your cabin, and I'll be up there shortly with some food for both of us. Then afterward maybe we can get some _real_ exercise."  
  
    "Smooth."  
  
    "Hey," he said with a grand gesture, "I managed to seduce the scariest Marine the Alliance Navy ever produced. Don't make fun of my methods, because they obviously work."  
  
    "I'm not scary." She turned and walked with him out of the gym and into the Normandy's corridors.  
  
    "Did you not hear the chatter from that last Cerberus team we took out? They started screaming like little girls when they realised it was you coming for them."  
  
    Shepard grinned at this, allowed her arm to bump affectionately against his. "It isn't me they're scared of. It's the propaganda."  
  
    "You more than live up to the mythology surrounding you, Shepard," Garrus assured her. He waited as she stepped into the elevator, watched her until the door closed. He stood still watching the elevator door for a long moment, before he made his way to the main battery, to raid his carefully-hidden stash of expensive wines, and then to the mess for some food. With all this carefully balanced he headed into the elevator and up to Shepard's cabin.

    Exactly where he needed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> The Shadow Broker's dossiers on most of the squadmates prove really interesting; that one line about Garrus not developing his potential if he continues to be overshadowed by Shepard bothers me a lot. :)


End file.
